


The Whispers of Dreams

by Keiko Kirin (sakana17)



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Adventure, Huddling For Warmth, Hurt/Comfort, Kissing, M/M, Post-Movie(s), stormtrooper flashbacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 00:46:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,398
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6032067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sakana17/pseuds/Keiko%20Kirin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after the movie. Finn's recovery is interrupted by an attack on the Resistance base, sending him and Poe on the run. When their escape goes wrong and strands them on a planet, only their trust in each other will save them. But Finn's past keeps coming back to haunt him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Whispers of Dreams

**Author's Note:**

> Based only on the movie, and not on the extended universe, novels, comics, merchandising, hints about Episode VIII, etc. This is my take on Finn's background and how he's dealing with it now (with Poe's help). Also: Finn's thoughts about Kylo Ren do not necessarily match those of the author. ;)

_Duty. Obedience._

_Obedience._

_Obey._

The words were always there, even in sleep, seemingly whispered from the walls and the floor. _Obey_ , the whispers said. _Obey. You are here for one purpose: to obey._

And it wasn’t difficult for FN2187 to obey. Everyone else obeyed. It wasn’t difficult until one day there were other words in the whispers: _Question what they tell you. Decide for yourself._

_There was a rebellion against the Galactic Empire_...

Finn knew he was awake when the whispers stopped, but his eyelids were too heavy to lift. In fact, his entire body was weighted down by some pressure as if he were sandwiched between the floor and ceiling of a trash compactor unit. At that thought, the past blurring with the present, he opened his eyes.

The light was not particularly bright but he winced at it. He was flat on his back and there was no compactor ceiling bearing down on him. He turned his head to one side; it took an enormous effort. He stared at the lightweight fabric of his sleeve and at his hand. He wiggled his fingers, relieved to see that they moved. Even though they ached. Everything ached. That compactor unit-like pressure, he was now figuring out, was a heavy dull universal ache.

He moved his eyes without moving his head -- no way he was going to attempt that again, not just yet. His eyes adjusted the light overhead. He saw indistinct metal shapes, plastic tubes curving out of view, and something vague moving just at the edge of his peripheral vision. A low, almost pleasant beeping kept rhythm off to his left. A underlying irregular roar hummed beneath that. He smelled antiseptics, dry earth, and a faint but pervading scent of fuel. 

_Resistance base_ pushed into his mind, and now that he knew where he was, his thoughts reeled backwards and landed hard in snow. Blood. Pain. Kylo Ren.

“Rey,” he called out, embarrassed by the weak uneven voice coming out of his mouth. That was not his voice. That was not the voice he wanted Rey to hear. 

He drew a deep breath. “Rey.” Better, still not good.

The vague movement in his peripheral vision leapt into view, grabbed his hand and sighed out, “Finn. Buddy.” Poe Dameron, leaning very close, filled his view.

Finn was relieved, glad to see him, and felt more secure about his surroundings even though he was a giant slab of immovable body parts. Poe’s hold on his hand hurt incredibly but was somehow reassuring. Welcoming.

“You’re okay,” Poe told him, his eyes big and sort of gleaming. “You’re going to be okay.”

Finn wasn’t so sure about that, what with the pressure and aching and not moving, but there was something forceful and certain in the happiness radiating from Poe, and Finn was willing to be convinced. He wasn’t dead, that was a good start. Poe wasn’t dead, even better. But--

“Rey. Where’s Rey?”

Poe’s smile softened and regret crept into his eyes, which nearly alarmed Finn except he knew in his heart that Rey was fine. He knew it, he felt it. 

“She had to leave. She’s gone to find Luke Skywalker.”

Oh, right. The map to Skywalker. The thing that threw them all together in the first place. Of course Rey had to go to Skywalker. Even so, he couldn’t help mumbling, “She couldn’t wait to say good-bye?”

“Finn,” Poe said with a shake of his head, “Rey left weeks ago. You’ve been like this for a really long time.”

“A long time?” Finn made the mistake of trying to sit up, hissed in pain, and thumped back against the medi-cot. “What happened? Rey’s all right, though? What happened to Kylo Ren? Starkiller Base? Was there a battle? Did I miss the battle?”

Poe chuckled and rubbed Finn’s hand soothingly. “You missed a few battles, buddy. And a relocation.” He proceeded to fill Finn in about everything that had happened until the doctor bustled in, shooed Poe away, and started poking and prodding and asking a million questions where the answer was either, “It hurts,” or “I can’t.”

But despite the aching and immovability, Finn smiled. Rey was alive. Rey had saved him. Poe was alive. Poe was here. And the First Order was on the defensive. Maybe by the time he could move and get off this stupid medi-cot, Rey would be back. Maybe he would even get to meet the famous rebel Luke Skywalker.

\-----

Rey hadn’t returned by the time Finn could stand up and creep a few steps away from the cot. The doctor said he was doing remarkably well and recovering quickly after being almost-but-not-quite dead for weeks and weeks. During which he missed the relocation of the Resistance base and a dogfight over a neutral planet the First Order tried to take over. Poe described it casually, but his smile let Finn fill in all the details of what had been another display of Poe’s incredible piloting skills. He was sorry he’d missed the action.

“Was there a ceremony for Han Solo?” he asked once when they were alone. He’d made it across the room that day and was resting against the wall, mustering the strength for the return journey. 

“No. General Organa kept her mourning as private as she could.” Poe sounded in awe of her.

Finn couldn’t blame her, under the circumstances. His memories crashed back to that horrible moment, watching helplessly as Kylo Ren’s saber stabbed through Han Solo. Listening to Chewbacca’s wail of grief and anger.

“How can Kylo Ren still be alive?” he muttered, returning to the topic that bothered him so much it made him restless and angry at his slow (no matter what the doctor said) recovery. 

“The place was exploding,” Poe answered matter-of-factly, as he always did. “It was falling in on itself.”

“So maybe he didn’t get away. Maybe he is dead.” Finn wanted to believe this. 

“Our contacts say he’s alive,” Poe sighed, patting Finn’s shoulder. “Somehow.”

_Somehow_ , Finn thought. _Because I didn’t kill him. And Rey didn’t kill him. Because she had to save me, and couldn’t do both._ He’d become convinced of this and it made him chafe. Made him long for his old strength, long to hold a blaster, long to face Kylo Ren again and take him down. 

Not so long ago, he’d been about to run away from all of this; now he was fired up to get back into it. Well, that’s what murdering psychopaths could do to a guy, he guessed.

He took a deep breath and pushed off from the wall, ready to face the long journey back to his cot. Poe walked beside him, ready to catch him if he stumbled. He didn’t stumble this time.

He missed more skirmishes. Poe would always stop by before flying out, dressed in his flight suit, holding his helmet, grinning and primed for action. This made Finn even more impatient with himself and his stupid slow body, but he wasn’t about to ask Poe to leave without saying good-bye. One lost farewell was too many. Besides, he enjoyed Poe like this. His energy and confidence were infectious, and after he bounded off to go kick some First Order ass, Finn would get up and push himself even harder.

And it was working. His limbs responded now, their hesitations barely perceptible. He could walk around, leave the room. His appetite returned with a vengeance but after the first luxury of overindulging in solid food, he ate in moderation. He tried running, and that was a disaster, but overall he felt more like himself now. More alive, finally. When the doctor declared that he was taking up a valuable medi-cot and needed to find a new place to bunk, he actually whooped and pumped his fist in the air. 

Then faced the reality that he didn’t know where to go. Before the mission he was a reluctant visitor among the Resistance, one foot out the door. Now he wanted to stay but wasn’t sure there was room for him at the new base. He stood outside of the medical unit in a corridor flowing with people, quick and purposeful. He was well enough to be in the doctor’s way, but he was still slow and useless.

He wished Rey were here. Rey would tell him to get over himself and just find a place already. He smiled, thinking of her giving him a stern kick in the pants, and braved the flow of people until he found the canteen.

He was still there, dozing off with his arms folded over the table, when Poe returned from his latest mission. Without opening his eyes Finn could tell it was Poe sliding onto the bench beside him. Poe had an energy, a vibrancy about him Finn would recognize anywhere. He wondered if that’s what the Force was like, but from what he’d heard about the Force, it was everywhere, connecting everything. Poe’s energy was focused and specific.

“Doc told me the good news,” Poe said, sloping his arm across Finn’s back and squeezing his shoulder. “So why are you trying to sleep in here?”

Finn opened his eyes to see Poe’s smile, warm and faintly teasing.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

Poe patted his back and laughed. “What? You’re bunking with me.” He said it as if this were obvious, as if they’d discussed it ages ago, and said it with such certainty that Finn questioned his own memory for a moment. No, they’d never talked about it.

“I am?” he asked, sitting up.

Poe rose and helped him up, holding onto his hand. “Of course you are. Kept a bunk cleared for you.”

Finn kept pace with him leaving the canteen, not noticing for a while that Poe hadn’t let go of his hand. He slid it free, distracted by the warm, bubbling, buzzing sensation he was feeling at the thought of bunking alone with Poe. Maybe he should go back to the doctor, he thought at the same time he thought that nothing short of a First Order attack would tear him away from Poe. 

“’Course, it’s a little tight right now. New recruits. We had to double up. But you’ll fit right in,” Poe said, smiling at him. “Right next to me.”

Poe hadn’t been kidding about the tight quarters. It wasn’t quite the vast stormtrooper trainee dormitory FN2187 remembered, but it was a large space crammed with bunks. Pilots’ gear, clothes, random tools, even some droid pieces shared space with the bodies at rest, sleeping, talking, playing dice games, laughing. In that respect, not at all like the trainee dormitory.

Poe navigated a labyrinth to lead him to the back wall. A rumpled bunk littered with a grease-smeared shirt and a set of dice sat next to a crisp, unused bunk with BB-8 between them. BB-8 chirped at Finn, rolling in greeting.

“Good to see you, too,” Finn guessed was the right response. BB-8 rolled approvingly.

Poe stashed his dirty shirt away and gestured at the empty bunk. “All yours.”

Finn sat down. Not as comfortable as the medi-cot, but the company here was much better. “It’ll do,” he said with a grin. 

On the other side of Poe someone rolled over in sleep, long straight hair acting as a mask. Finn glanced around at the next bunk over from his and saw it was currently empty except for some tools and a small gear shaft.

Poe stretched out on his bunk, picking up the dice and rattling them in his palm. Finn lay down and watched him, listening to the sounds of the people around them. The warm bubbling feeling had subsided, though it was not completely gone.

\-----

Finn lifted the length of pipe over his head and swung around. His shoulder and spine complained but he ignored that and swerved to kneel on one knee, raising the pipe for a thrust into the gut of his invisible enemy. 

“Too slow,” he muttered to himself. “Kylo Ren would have my head off by now.”

He stood up and hefted the pipe, one he had liberated from a supply bin. It didn’t feel anything like Rey’s light saber, that was part of the problem. Nothing felt like a light saber. Controlling it had been difficult, like it was an animal with a will of its own. Wielding it had required all of his concentration. But with its power, Finn told himself, he should’ve been able to take Kylo Ren down. 

He tossed the pipe aside and sighed, wiping sweat from his brow with his undershirt. He had found an empty storeroom to practice in alone, away from all the quick, purposeful people. He did a few stretches to work the stiffness from his shoulders and bent over to pick up the pipe again, this time raising it to his chin like a blaster. Blasters were easy. Aiming at targets was easy. He’d been trained for that since before he could remember.

“Good to know that if we ever run out of blasters, you can shoot a wicked pipe,” Poe said from the entry. Finn spun around and dropped the pipe. Poe was leaning against the wall, his arms folded over his chest.

“How long have you been there?”

Poe only smiled in response, and Finn felt the now-familiar warm buzzing sensation slither up his neck and into his cheeks. It was happening more frequently now, always around Poe, and it wasn’t necessarily unpleasant. Quite the opposite.

“I’m still too slow,” Finn complained. He leaned over to pick up his shirt and his jacket. “I wish I could practice with a light saber.” He shrugged into his clothes.

“None of those lying around, sorry.” Poe patted his back as they left the storeroom together and headed for the canteen. “And you’re not slow. You’re recovering. Faster than the doctor said was possible. Don’t be so hard on yourself.”

Finn grabbed some rations and found an empty spot at one of the long tables. “You don’t understand,” he said when Poe took the seat across from him. “You’re, well, you. You go on missions. You help people. You fight back. I’m stuck here, doing nothing.” He bit into a protein slab and chewed angrily.

“You’re not doing nothing, you’re--”

“Recovering,” Finn finished for him. “I know.” 

He decided he could damn well recover faster, and spent even more time practicing in the storeroom. Poe joined him when he could, becoming his sparring partner. He wasn’t as good with a pipe as Finn was, but he maneuvered smoothly and gracefully, pushing Finn to match his moves. They practiced until they were both exhausted and slid to the storeroom floor, panting and sweating and rehydrating with water packs.

At the end of one practice Finn flopped onto his back against the cool floor. He was sore from the workout but nothing ached. 

“Shouldn’t Rey be here by now?” he asked, frowning up at the circle of lights overhead.

Poe dropped down beside him, so close their shoulders touched. “How long does it take to become a Jedi master?”

“She shouldn’t need that much training, right?” Finn wistfully remembered Rey’s strength. “She learns really fast. Like on the Millennium Falcon? She got us out of there like she’d been flying it for years. We had two, no, three--”

“--TIE fighters on your heels, yeah, you’ve mentioned it a few times.” Poe sounded amused. 

Finn glanced over. Poe’s head was turned toward him. Poe watched him, his eyes soft and dark, his face glistening with sweat, his hair messy and wild. Warm bubbling buzzing swarmed through Finn’s body. He licked his lips and averted his eyes, went back to staring at the lights hanging from the ceiling. 

After a moment, after his pulse slowed a little, he said, “Well, get me back out there again and I’ll have some new stories to tell.”

Poe sighed a little and sat up. Finn watched his shoulders roll beneath the thin undershirt fabric clinging to his skin. Poe clapped a hand over Finn’s knee and glanced back.

“Soon enough, buddy. Soon enough.”

\-----

The attack on the new Resistance base happened without warning, literally dropping from the sky. Alarms which should have sounded earlier sounded now, adding to the chaos of defense and survival. The Resistance were not unprepared for attacks, but this one was too effective. General Organa ordered evacuation. The base shook from cannon blasts and from everyone moving in every direction at once.

Finn and Poe had been practicing in the storeroom. They ran for the X-wings, running into BB-8 on the way. Finn wasn’t ready to say good-bye to Poe, but the Resistance needed their best pilot out there, joining the fight while the base evacuated.

Poe swooped up his flight suit and helmet from the pilots’ stations outside the hangar. The complex shuddered from another blast. Bits of the ceiling crumbled over them. Poe hurriedly pulled on his suit.

Finn laid a hand on his shoulder. “Be careful.”

Poe paused and looked at him. “You too.” They pulled each other into a hug. The complex shuddered again, more violently than before, and they ducked, still holding on to each other, as the ceiling crashed down around them.

“That’s too close,” Poe said grimly. Dust covered his face. Finn coughed and wiped grit from his eyes. BB-8 made a worried sound and rolled back a little. A strong smell of fuel blew in from the direction of the hangar.

“Get down!” Finn instinctively grabbed Poe’s arms, pulled him to the floor and rolled over him, shielding him as fire volleyed into the corridor from the hangar. It stormed upward to the ceiling but was close enough for Finn to feel burning heat on the back of his neck. 

Clutching Poe’s arm, he shifted into a crouch. They crawled away from the inferno until they reached a corner and could stand. Acrid smoke billowed around them. 

One of the pilots came quickly on their heels, pushing them farther away from the hangar. Poe looked back.

“Everyone?” he asked.

She shook her head, coughing. “Not everyone. Some have already left. But it’s bad enough. We’ve got to get to the evac transports. General Organa--”

Poe nodded. The three of them raced down the corridor, following BB-8. They steered everyone they collided with toward the evacuation transports, though Finn was terrified that another blast would take out that hangar, too.

Here it was again: the impossibility of defeating the First Order. Sure, he could train, become stronger, become faster, become one of the best shots in the galaxy. Maybe he could even overpower Kylo Ren the next time he faced that little shit. But Kylo Ren was not the First Order. He wasn’t the far-flung network of controlled resource planets and cowed tributary states. He wasn’t the power of a starkiller or of a hundred thousand stormtroopers standing at attention, awaiting a command. 

_Duty. Obedience._

That was why the First Order always won: everyone obeyed and did their duty.

Not everyone, his brain reminded him, but in the panic of escape, this wasn’t much comfort. For the first time since waking up on the medi-cot, he was glad Rey wasn’t here. At least she was safe.

BB-8 rolled ahead and Poe grabbed Finn’s wrist and tugged hard.

“Come on.”

Cool air tinged with smoke and fuel assaulted them and Finn slowed. What had been a solid outer wall was completely gone, half of the ceiling with it. Outside the wreck of a TIE fighter gouged the earth and smoldered in a heap. Tracks across the cracked airstrip spoke of one transport already gone. Another was powering up. Finn glimpsed a press of people inside as its hatch closed.

There was one transport left and Finn turned to run toward it, but Poe pulled him back, moving his grip to Finn’s hand to take a firmer hold.

“I have an idea.”

Finn jogged with him, noticing that BB-8 apparently had the same idea, since it was still in the lead. “Am I going to like this idea?”

Poe shot him a sidelong glance and a crooked smile. “Wanna shoot down anything First Order you see on our way out?”

Finn grinned. “Hell, yeah.”

“Then I think you’ll love this idea,” Poe said, squeezing his hand.

And Finn wanted to love it, he really did, but when they skidded to a halt in front of the -- ship? fighter? He didn’t even know what to call it, since it was neither and both at the same time -- it wasn’t love but dread at first sight.

BB-8, right at home, rolled underneath it and extended a claw into a small panel on its underside. Finn narrowed his eyes and wondered if he had the droid to blame for this monstrosity.

“Does it fly?” he asked dubiously.

Poe didn’t take offense, which didn’t help his skepticism. He patted the bulbous hull and laughed a little. “I hope so. She worked all right on the test run.”

Not the most reassuring answer, but he’d take it. Then Poe ruined it by adding, “Of course, that was before we made the latest modifications.”

“’We’?”

BB-8 chirped enthusiastically, confirming that yes, Finn could blame the droid for everything.

Poe popped the hatch open. A narrow ramp dropped from the rear and the cockpit window in front swung up. Poe exclaimed, “Yes!” under his breath, as if this outcome wasn’t entirely expected. Finn swallowed his misgivings and scrambled up the ramp.

For a ship that looked like a squat misshapen tub on the outside, it was pretty cozy on the inside. Cozy in the way escape pods were cozy, Finn thought as he squeezed into the gunner’s nest. It was kind of like the current generation of TIE fighters, with a gunner back-to-back to the pilot, but the nest and the cockpit were a few meters apart from each other, two distinct lumps. In between was a mystery area Finn couldn’t explain until Poe engaged the engine and BB-8 motored up the closing ramp and popped up in the middle of the ship. Finn felt some relief to see that BB-8 had a few torpedo blasters at its disposal.

There was a communications switch on the gunnery console. Finn flipped it on while he scanned the various buttons and displays. “What is this thing, anyway?”

Poe’s voice crackled back, “An old Arstellian bounty hunter’s corvette. Back in the day, these things were the fastest, stealthiest ships in the galaxy.”

Finn didn’t bother asking when that day was; the old push buttons had already confessed their age. 

“I replaced the cockpit with an X-wing’s,” Poe continued, “and I think you’ll find some nice surprises in her armaments.”

Finn doubted he’d like any of this ship’s surprises, but kept quiet. The engine fired up with a loud roar and he had just enough time to suck in a deep breath before she jolted out of the destroyed hangar and over the scarred, burning landscape.

No time for sightseeing to assess the damage, Finn thought. He couldn’t exactly call the Resistance base ‘home,’ but it had been close enough to one. He spared a glance down as they shot upward and was relieved to see the final transport pulling away. 

Two TIE fighters bore down on the transport. Poe had spotted them, too, and swung around to cut across their path.

“Ready?” he crackled at Finn.

Finn gripped the controls and stared at the target screen. “Ready.” 

The first shot spiraled and went wild, missing the target and landing somewhere on the charred earth. The second tore a wing off the first TIE fighter. It unbalanced and careened to a crash. Its twin pounded them with blasts, and Finn smelled burning plastic and metal. He cursed as it ducked and danced away from his target lock. 

“Hey, Finn,” Poe called over the comm. “Not to rush you or anything, but...”

“I’m on it!” he called back. “Will be if it’d just...” he muttered to himself. “There.”

The target locked and he pressed the trigger. Nothing happened. No shot. He pressed again. Still nothing. Another blast rocked the ship and BB-8 squealed. The TIE fighter was practically on top of them. He could almost see the pilot inside. He frantically hit the trigger over and over.

They zoomed out of the way as the TIE fighter exploded and rained down over them. 

“Who did that? Did I do that?”

“See you at the rendezvous, Dameron,” an unfamiliar voice came over the comms. 

“Thanks, Tinder,” Poe called out. 

“Oh. I didn’t do that,” Finn grumbled. He frowned at the useless trigger. “Hey, you’re sure this ship was fully armed when we left?”

“Completely sure. Don’t worry about it. We’ll check her out when we reach the next base. BB-8 can handle any incoming we meet on the way out.”

Finn wasn’t comforted, though, even when they left the atmosphere. Three TIE fighters heading toward the planet gave them some parting blasts; BB-8 returned in kind, but no one followed them as they left orbit. A First Order battle cruiser was too busy gloating over its prize to pay attention to small fry like them. Maybe there was some benefit in having an ugly tug after all, Finn thought.

Even when they were away from the planet and the battle, though, the useless trigger button still bothered him. Two shots fired. He figured he’d pressed for at least five more in his panic. He guessed she was armed for a good twenty to thirty blasts before her weapons reserves were depleted. And the thing with weapons reserves, as he had learned as a trainee, was that they needed to release and deplete. Otherwise--

“Poe! What’s the nearest planet?”

“Nearest planet?” Poe chuckled, then abruptly stopped. “Uh... Let me see... There’s a neutral on the edge of this system. We’re maybe half way there. Do we have that much time? Because otherwise... Doesn’t look good.”

Finn did some quick calculations. “Then we gotta have the time. And hope your streak of miraculous luck continues.”

“It’s not luck, Finn. Just meeting the right people.” Poe didn’t say it like a joke.

Poe’s lucky streak continued. Only just. On the way, BB-8 managed to release some of the energy building up before more sections of the weapons system stopped responding. By the time the planet was in sight, the ship rumbled ominously and BB-8, monitoring multiple failing systems, was squealing in distress.

They reached the exosphere and Poe’s voice clipped through the comms, “Finn. Listen to me. There’s a latch under your seat. When BB-8 gives the signal, lift the latch. Don’t hesitate, just do it. This is gonna be tricky, but we’ll make it. I promise.”

Finn really didn’t like how serious Poe sounded. He had noticed the latch earlier and stared down at it now. A nervous chill made him hitch his shoulders. He wished he wasn’t back here, away from Poe. He wished this ship wasn’t a cobbled-together piece of junk. He wished Rey was here. Or no, he didn’t. She was away and safe. He had to be thankful for that.

“Poe Dameron, if you break that promise, I swear I’ll... I don’t know what I’ll do, but it’ll be something you won’t like.” 

Poe laughed. 

They reached the stratosphere. The ship shook violently, tossing him from side to side. BB-8 let out a loud, steady beep Finn guessed was the signal. He lifted the latch. 

Soft-sided plastic blocks filled the gunner’s nest. Metal snapped and whined all around him. 

“Oh, no,” Finn whispered as he realized what was happening. He gripped the straps across his chest. The ship bucked and spun into a tight spiral. With a deafening scraping sound the gunner’s nest tore free from the ship, completely sealed but falling fast, slicing through the layers of the planet’s atmosphere. Finn shut his eyes and braced himself.

A few moments before impact the nest-turned-escape pod slowed slightly and banked to lessen the angle of descent. Even so, the crash sent the pod screeching and tumbling over the ground. It rolled over several times before its abrupt, clanking halt. 

High-pitched beeping wailed all around Finn. He fumbled through the impact absorption blocks and slammed his palm over an urgently blinking button on the console. The window struts broke away. He unhooked himself from the straps and kicked the window away. Cold air rushed at him. He lifted himself out of the pod and climbed onto the outer hull. The nose of the pod had carved into the ground, which was covered in short coarse grass and frost. Finn slid off the hull, landed carefully in the grass, and looked up at the sky, watching for Poe.

What he saw were bright flashes as pieces of the ship broke up in the atmosphere. A small piece of metal landed on the ground a few meters away, followed by another and another.

“No, no, no.” Finn staggered over to them and looked up again. He watched until no more orange bursts dotted the sky, then started his search of the area. 

The planet’s air was cold and hazy, the frostbitten ground hard and flat. He couldn’t see far ahead and there was no high ground to get a good view. He didn’t see any people or buildings around, so he chanced it and called out for Poe. His voice seemed to get swallowed up by the air.

Finally he heard something ahead: trilling and beeping. He ran toward it until BB-8 wobbled out to meet him, chirping excitedly.

“Aw, you damaged?” Finn asked, noticing its uneasy gait. “Where’s Poe?”

The droid turned and whirred away. Finn ran to keep up and skidded to a stop when he saw the cockpit on its side, slicing into the ground. Pieces of the window were missing. There was no sign of Poe.

“No, no. Not again.”

Finn circled the wreckage and called out. BB-8 rocked back and forth beside him. He turned to the cockpit, tested its stability, and climbed up, balancing on the edge. He scanned the flat, empty landscape, trying to see through the haze.

“Poe!” he shouted through cupped hands.

And there, distantly: an answering call that might have been “Finn.”

“Poe! Stay there. I’m coming.” He scrambled off the cockpit and struck out in the direction of the answering voice, BB-8 at his heels. Within minutes he and Poe saw each other and rushed to meet.

They hugged and stood back, looking each other over.

“You okay?”

“I’m okay. You’re okay?”

“I’m okay. You sure you’re fine?”

“I’m sure. You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure.”

Poe laughed and hugged him again. “I told you we’d make it. I didn’t break my promise.”

Finn clapped him on the back. “That’s good, because I had no idea what I was going to do if you did.” 

He turned to look around at the flat, grey landscape. “Now what do we do?”

Poe scanned the sky as he pulled his jacket on over his flight suit. “It’ll be night soon and get even colder. We find somewhere to hunker down until morning.”

They trudged back to the wreck of the gunner’s nest, which was in a slightly more stable condition than the cockpit. Poe stopped to scavenge what he could from the cockpit along the way. When they reached the gunner’s nest the light was leaching from the sky. Finn used a curved panel from the broken hull to dig into the earth and form a ring. In the center BB-8 set fire to a bundle of coarse grass. The flames flickered weakly. 

Poe sat down close to the fire and pulled two flat ration packs from his jacket. “I brought these just in case,” he smiled.

Finn sat down beside him and took one. He ripped open the package and broke off a corner of the food bar inside. 

“Wait a minute. I have water, too.” Poe held up a water canister he’d salvaged from the cockpit. “We can heat some up in BB-8’s storage drawer and rehydrate the food bars in there.”

BB-8 chirped but Finn couldn’t tell if it was in agreement or protest.

“Nuh-uh,” he said. “Old stormtrooper’s trick: break off a piece like this and suck on it like a lozenge. Save the rest and you can live off one bar for days.” He snapped off another piece and offered it to Poe.

“Huh, that’s useful to know,” Poe said. He popped the piece in his mouth and grimaced.

Finn tongued his ration lozenge to the side of his mouth and nodded. “Tastes awful at first,” he said around it. “You get used to it.”

Poe looked doubtful but shrugged and put the other ration pack away. He and Finn sat in lozenge-enforced silence as the hazy day became murky grey night. When Finn’s lozenge had finally dissolved he took a sparing drink of water from the canister. Poe did the same a few minutes later.

“That was the worst meal I’ve ever had,” he said cheerfully. He tossed another bundle of grass into the fire. “Thanks.” He looked over at Finn. “Know any more old stormtrooper tricks?”

“Too many,” Finn frowned.

Poe’s expression changed immediately. “Ah, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I meant--”

“I know you didn’t. It’s just... not easy sometimes, remembering.”

_Duty. Obedience._

_Traitor._

_Obey._

After a long silence Poe said, “I was thinking more along the lines of how not to freeze to death.” He hunched closer to the sickly fire.

“Not exactly a concern in those uniforms.” Finn shivered and tucked his hands under his arms. “What about inside the pod?” He nodded toward the wreck.

Poe glanced back. “Yeah, you go ahead. No reason for both of us to freeze out here.”

“We might both fit,” Finn said, though as the words left his mouth he recalled how tight a squeeze it had been for him alone. 

Poe slightly cocked one eyebrow and shot him a dry look. 

“Okay, maybe not,” Finn sighed. “But you could sleep in the cockpit.” He didn’t like this idea because it meant he and Poe would be split up again.

Poe shook his head. “No can do. Not unless I want to be impaled. The cockpit’s too mangled.”

Finn scooted closer to the fire. As wan as it was, it was better than nothing. He fidgeted to keep his circulation going. “How did you get out?” he asked. “I saw the ship breaking up in the atmosphere.”

“It exploded. I detached the cockpit just before she blew. It was supposed to work like your escape pod but the impact absorption pillows never inflated, and I lost part of the deck during descent. I held on to my seat straps and counted all the things I have to be grateful for.” He smiled softly and continued after a moment, “Luckily one of the last modifications we installed were mini-thrusters. I was able to slow her down some but couldn’t change the angle when she hit.”

“How did BB-8 get away?” Finn stared across the fire at the droid, envious of its imperviousness to the cold.

“Came down with me. We’d rigged a connector to the cockpit precisely for something like this.” Poe rolled his shoulders and shuddered. “Didn’t think we’d need to try it out so soon.”

Finn could hear Poe’s teeth chattering. “Poe. Look, we gotta do something or we really will freeze to death.” He narrowed his eyes at the dark bulk of the wreck. “Anything in there we can set fire to? The impact absorption pillows?”

Poe pulled his knees up and rocked back and forth. “Everything’s designed to be fireproof. Only thing you can do is explode her, and you need munitions reserves for that.

“And the munitions reserves exploded with the rest of the ship,” Finn finished for him. He shivered uncontrollably. “Then, well, I do know another old stormtrooper’s trick.”

He scooted over to Poe, who tossed more grass into the fire. Finn slid behind him and circled his arms around him, pressing his chest against Poe’s back and his cheek against the nape of Poe’s neck. He stuffed his hands into Poe’s jacket pockets and rubbed Poe’s icy hands. His legs squeezed around Poe’s.

Poe wriggled and laughed a little. “Old stormtrooper’s trick? I thought you said you were never cold in those uniforms.”

“We weren’t.” Finn paused. “This was when we were out of the uniforms.”

Poe was warming, keeping Finn’s front nice and comfortable. His back was cold even through his jacket but he’d felt worse.

Poe asked curiously, “And when were you out of the uniforms?”

_Duty. Obedience._

Finn turned his head to warm the other side of his face against Poe’s neck.

“Trainee exercises. Survival training.” He hesitated and chewed his lip. 

Inside Poe’s pockets, Poe spread his fingers to thread them with Finn’s. For warmth. 

“Social training,” Finn said quietly, not at all sure why he was telling Poe this.

After a long moment of silence while Poe rocked their bodies slowly, Poe said, “Oh.” A pause, rocking, soothing. “Never thought that was something that would be, uh, training.”

“They told us it was because there is no need for emotion. No need for passion. It’s just something bodies do.”

Poe’s neck rubbed against his cheek as he briefly glanced over his shoulder. His fingers squeezed Finn’s, nice and warm inside the jacket pockets. Finn stared out at the empty grey night around them, aware of every breath Poe took, every tiny move he made. Poe was silent for so long Finn figured he’d fallen asleep, then Poe let go of one of his hands to grab another bundle of grass and add it to the fire. He stuffed his hand back into his pocket and locked his fingers with Finn’s.

“Hey, Poe? Is anything out here going to come and eat us?”

“Not on my watch.” 

Finn, mostly warm now, relaxed and closed his eyes. It was surprisingly comfortable, holding Poe like this. He didn’t know if Poe was as comfortable, but at least he was warmer than before and his teeth weren’t chattering.

He didn’t doze off, just rested. He felt when Poe drifted into a nap and let him sleep. He wondered what Poe dreamt about. What did any of them, the ones who hadn’t been stormtroopers, dream about? When Poe woke up he outstretched his legs and flexed his shoulders. Finn, drowsy and snug, nuzzled Poe’s hair to warm his nose.

BB-8’s chirrups interrupted his peace, and when Poe’s body tensed a little Finn opened his eyes. A milky dawn diluted the grey night.

“What is it?” Finn whispered, lifting his head to look around for moving shapes, blaster fire, or creatures coming to eat them.

“Bit of a snag,” Poe sighed. “BB’s been trying all night to connect with any Resistance craft in the area and can’t. Heard them all right but got no response. Must be something busted.”

“Or something jamming the signal?” Finn asked ominously.

“Let’s hope not, because the other snag is that when BB-8 switched to terrestrial communications channels and listened in, there was an alert. Hux has put a bounty on you. Enough of one to make you a tempting target.” Poe squeezed Finn’s hands reassuringly. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure out something. When we find a town I’ll scout around first. Maybe we can disguise you.”

Finn lightly beat his forehead against the back of Poe’s head. “Why me? Why now? Why is this happening?” He lifted his head and sat up, holding Poe against his chest. “Wait. General Hux put the bounty out? Not Kylo Ren?”

“The alert said it was Hux,” Poe said. “According to our contacts Hux is taking it personally that his training regime failed on you. He probably wants you as an example to others.”

Finn frowned, imagining what General Hux’s example to others would be. 

_Duty. Obedience._

_Obey._

_Traitor._

Something Poe had said merged with the whispers. 

_Question what they tell you._

_Decide for yourself._

_Do what you believe is right._

_There was a rebellion against the Galactic Empire..._

“Contacts,” Finn said. He sat back, extricating his hands from Poe’s pockets and pulling away. Cold dawn air shattered the warmth he’d felt. Poe turned to face him, his gaze gentle but unwavering.

“Resistance contacts,” Finn continued, his mind racing. “The Resistance infiltrated the First Order. Infiltrated my training?”

Poe’s look gave him his answer. Finn furrowed his brow. “You knew about this?”

Poe shook his head. “I only found out about it a few days ago. I was going to tell you.” He winced a little. “If the topic came up.”

Finn blew out a breath, his thoughts and memories spinning wildly. “Yeah, okay, I give you that. It’s not really an everyday conversation to have. What else did you find out?” he asked curiously.

“Just that.” Poe shrugged. “Apparently you’re the first sign that the training infiltration operation worked.”

Finn blinked. “That’s some long-range strategy.”

Poe smiled crookedly. “Not all of the Resistance’s missions are last-minute seat-of-the-pants.”

“Only the rescue missions.” Finn smirked. He relaxed again, drawing his knees up and hooking his arms around them. Then he narrowed his eyes at Poe. “Wait. Who told you this and why were you talking about me?”

Poe looked abashed and glanced away quickly before meeting Finn’s gaze. “Remember when that general from the Republic arrived to meet with General Organa? I got called in to a special meeting with a few of the leaders.” He rubbed a hand over his hair. “Because I--”

“You were there when I left the First Order,” Finn supplied. “Go on.”

“The Republic doesn’t believe stormtroopers can become traitors.” Poe sounded exasperated, and the memory of the meeting agitated him. He gestured in angry frustration. 

“They wanted to know everything you said when you rescued me. I told them we’d been too busy escaping for me to remember every word. They asked how you met Rey. I explained that. They talked about how you knew who Han Solo and Luke Skywalker were, how you knew about the Rebellion against the Empire. Not exactly history the First Order wants everyone to know.” He hissed out a breath. “In short, questions were raised.”

“And that’s when you found out about the infiltration operation.”

Poe nodded. “It was top secret. Only General Organa and Admiral Ackbar knew about it.” He smiled a little. “Shut everyone up in a hurry after that.”

Finn watched the hazy daylight reach Poe’s legs and rise up his arms and chest to stroke his face and hair. Like phantom pain, his body remembered Poe’s warmth cradled against his chest.

“Questions were raised...” he said slowly. “Do you have questions?”

Poe looked into his eyes. “You’re the guy who took off his stormtrooper mask and said you were rescuing me. I don’t have any questions at all.”

Finn grinned broadly, relieved and reliving their eventful escape. Poe was quiet and serious for a moment before he matched Finn’s grin. He reached over and patted Finn’s leg. For a moment Finn felt a familiar warm bubbling buzzing.

“Guess what,” Poe said.

“What?”

“It’s time for the next worst meal I’ve ever had. Where’s the rest of that ration bar?”

Finn chuckled and slid it from his jacket pocket and broke off two pieces. 

\-----

Packing what they could carry, they walked most of the day until they saw signs of habitation: an old collapsed comms tower and a small dump of broken droid parts. BB-8 beeped in consternation at that.

As the daylight waned, they reached a village of squat square buildings around another old but upright comms tower. There wasn’t any place to hide in the flat, treeless landscape, but Finn dropped back with BB-8. Poe shed his flight suit to look less conspicuous in ordinary clothes and cautiously went ahead to check out the village. Finn wrapped the flight suit over his shoulders like a shawl and sat on the cold ground and waited.

And waited. And waited. Night fell. The temperature fell. Finn sucked on another ration lozenge and listened to the darkness. He could see the lights on the comms tower and lights he thought must be the village. He strained to hear any sounds from that direction, like shouts and blaster shots. He heard nothing.

“He’s been gone too long,” Finn said to BB-8, who waited patiently and quietly. Finn glared at it. “Why aren’t you upset? You know he’s been gone too long. Why aren’t you worried?”

BB-8 rocked back and forth and made a quiet chirp. Finn stood up, pulled the flight suit tighter around his shoulders, and lifted his chin. “I don’t care if there’s a bounty, I’m going after him. Hux wants an example? Fine. I’ll be the example of I died saving my friend from... from whatever it is.” He looked down at BB-8. “You coming?” He strode off toward the village. BB-8 slowly followed.

He stopped abruptly when he heard boots crunching over the rough grass. He dropped into a crouch even though there wasn’t any cover to hide behind, and in the grey night his silhouette had probably already been spotted. A small blue light flashed close in front of him and he winced.

“Finn?” Poe laid a hand on Finn’s shoulder. “It’s okay. It’s good. We can stay here tonight.”

Finn straightened up and frowned at him. “What took you so long? I’ve been-- BB-8 was worried about you.”

BB-8 made some obnoxious sound and Poe flashed a grin, sliding his arm across Finn’s shoulders and guiding him toward the village. “I was getting to know the locals. We’re in luck. They’re the Adeen people, and apparently they’re not very friendly with anyone else on the planet. They’re not on the planet’s main communications grid, though they can monitor it.”

“Do they know about the bounty?”

“They know there’s a bounty out for someone but as far as they’re concerned, it’s someone else’s problem.”

“Do they care about the Resistance? Do they know who we are?”

Poe slowed his steps, let his hand drop from Finn’s shoulder and looked at him, holding up the small blue guide light.

“Yeah, so, about that... I didn’t want to raise the subject of the Resistance, just in case.”

Finn nodded. Made sense to him. But Poe was being kind of weird and reluctant about it.

“To explain how we got here... To get us a warm place to sleep for the night... I said we were tourists on our way to the capital when our cruiser crashed.”

“Okay,” Finn said, still puzzled by Poe’s weird reluctance.

Poe twiddled the guide light. “And the people I was talking to -- nice folks, by the way -- immediately reacted and said we must be here for the big something-something festival. What luck, right? There’s actually a festival going on right now that tourists would come to.” 

“Yes,” Finn said slowly. Before Poe could resume beating around the bush, he rested his hand on Poe’s arm and said, “What are you trying to avoid telling me?”

Poe glanced up at the sky. “Whatever this festival is, it’s for couples. Pairs. You know...”

“I do know, yes,” Finn cut in, slightly insulted by the implication that he wouldn’t know. On the other hand, given a stormtrooper’s upbringing, maybe it was more understandable if he didn’t. 

Poe held the light steady and looked at him. “Oh, good.” He smiled and added, “Look at it this way, we’ll be extra warm tonight. Inside, sharing a sleeping space. They offered us some food, too. Really lucky, right?”

Finn shrugged and nudged him. “What was it you said? It’s not luck, it’s just meeting the right people.”

Poe’s laugh rang out in the darkness.

The Adeen villagers were, mostly, as nice as Poe said. Curious about strangers but not too curious. Generous in sharing their food but not too generous. The only thing they didn’t mind passing around more than once was a giant jar of something pungent and fermented that made Finn pleasantly relaxed. The villagers entertained their guests with a litany of complaints they had against the planet’s main government and let slip that they had no use for either the First Order or the Resistance. They just wanted to be left alone. Except for the occasional visitor, of course, they added quickly, offering more food to Poe and Finn before resuming their grievances against governments.

Finn sat back in the crowded, cozy communal building and enjoyed the villagers’ colors and complaints. He admired how they could sit around and have no use for governments, no use for invasions, intimidation, and power struggles. They weren’t rich folk, judging by their homemade everything and cobbled-together tech, but they hadn’t been erased. When he’d been intent on getting as far away from the First Order as possible it was something like this he’d had in mind. He wondered if his family had been folk like this. 

When the communal feast broke up, a village woman led Finn to the little house where he and Poe would stay for the night. It was an empty house, she explained, because her daughter’s family had gone to find work in the capital. It was clear that the woman didn’t approve of her daughter’s decision.

After the woman left, he waited outside for Poe, who’d stopped to confer with BB-8. They’d surreptitiously tapped the droid into the comms tower to try to boost the signal when communicating with any Resistance craft in the area.

Poe came crunching over to the house, shaking his head. “Hasn’t heard anyone passing this way. It is pretty remote here.”

Finn patted Poe’s back. “At least it means the First Order aren’t looking here, either. Don’t worry. General Organa will send someone to find you. They need their best pilot.”

“There are always good pilots, and General Organa’s going to have her hands full with the relocation. We might have to think of something else to get away from here.” Poe rubbed his face tiredly. 

“Think in the morning. Right now, our palace awaits.” Finn opened the door and took Poe’s hand to bring him inside.

It was small. The Adeen were short of stature and Finn guessed they didn’t need much space. He and Poe stood in the one room, an empty square with shallow alcoves and narrow windows in the walls. There was a half loft overhead that didn’t look sturdy enough to support either of them. The one big thing this place had going for it was the fire well in the corner. The village woman had helpfully started a fire in it already. 

In the opposite corner Finn spotted an old-fashioned sink. He went over to it and noticed a panel door next to it. He pressed the panel and it whooshed open to reveal a narrow bathing and sanitation station, suspiciously exactly like those found on First Order troop transports.

“Now that’s an impressive piece of salvage,” Poe said at his shoulder. “I’d heard there are junkers specializing in retrieving these and selling them all over the galaxy. I’m impressed their salesmen made it all the way out here.”

Finn cocked his head. “Finally, the First Order is good for something. I’m dying for a wash. You mind?”

“Go right ahead,” Poe smiled. “I’ll take a look around.”

Finn glanced back at the room. “Not much to see.”

Poe leaned in and murmured, “Maybe there are hidden secrets.”

Finn murmured back, “If you find another map to Luke Skywalker you’re on your own.”

He left Poe to it and climbed into the bathing station. The inhabitants had filled the clothes cubicle with a stack of empty pots and a dying plant. Finn stripped and stuffed his clothes behind the plant. He stepped onto the water sensor and waited. Took a few steps around in case the sensor needed to be wakened. Bounced on his feet over the sensor. Jumped on it.

It occurred to him that if no one was living here, there was no need to keep a water supply. He sighed regretfully and reached for his clothes. Suddenly tepid water sprayed over him, weak but welcome. He dropped his clothes and lifted his face, felt grime and dust rinse away. From habit born of experience he washed quickly before the water cycle ended, then stretched his arms for the air cycle. It wasn’t as powerful as on a transport and he wasn’t completely dry when he dressed, but he was clean.

He stepped out of the station. Poe had fed the fire and the room was nicely warm. He’d also found some blankets to spread over the floor. He sat on the edge of an alcove near the fire well.

“It actually worked,” Poe said, looking him over. 

Finn sat down on the blankets. “Did you find any hidden secrets?”

Poe’s smile twitched. “Not yet.” He stood up. “I have to try that thing. Any tips?” He took off his jacket and set it on the alcove.

“The sensor’s the round panel on the floor, and it’s temperamental. And you gotta be quick with the water, otherwise you’ll end up half-clean, half-grimy.”

Poe lifted off his shirt and folded it over his jacket. “Grimy? I’m grimy?” He ran a hand down his bare chest and rubbed grit off his fingers. “Oh.”

While Poe bathed Finn stretched out over the blankets, relaxed and content, and fell asleep. He stirred, half-awake, when Poe came back. Poe lay down beside him. He felt Poe’s warm body curl against his. 

The room was stuffy from the fire. Finn writhed around to get his jacket off. Poe helped him, and got his shirt off, too. Grateful, Finn leaned into Poe’s arms and drifted back to sleep.

_Obedience._

_Question what they tell you._

_There was a rebellion._

_Traitor._

_Decide for yourself._

_Obey._

_Duty._

_Do what you believe is right._

Finn woke up, half expecting to see the endless trainee dormitory stretching out around him. He blinked at the darkness. Where was he?

“Finn?” Poe’s voice was low and careful next to his ear, and Finn remembered where he was.

Poe was holding him and Finn pressed back into Poe’s embrace, watching the darkness. The fire had gone out, but the room was still stuffy. Through his undershirt Finn felt that Poe’s chest was bare. He slid his hand over Poe’s, resting over his gut.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” he said.

“You didn’t.”

Their voices were quiet in the dark, close room. Finn felt Poe breathing, felt his chest rising, his breath on Finn’s neck.

“What do you dream about?” he asked.

Poe moved a little with a short, surprised laugh. “Dream? A good dream or a bad dream?”

“There are good dreams?” Finn asked with genuine bewilderment.

“Finn...” Poe sighed, his voice catching. 

Finn shifted onto his back and lifted his hand until he felt Poe’s hair against his fingertips. He drew his fingers down, skimming them across Poe’s cheekbone, touching his jaw, his lips.

Poe sucked in a breath and released it shakily. “I’ve dreamt about something like this.”

“Was it a good dream?”

“Oh, yes.” Finn heard the smile in Poe’s voice and smiled, too. He touched Poe’s lips again to feel the smile. Poe kissed his fingertips.

Finn swallowed. “It’s warm in here, right? It’s not just me?”

“Yeah,” Poe chuckled softly. “I think I let the fire get too hot.”

Finn’s fingers followed Poe’s chin to his neck and along his shoulder. He flattened his hand and smoothed his palm across Poe’s chest. Warm skin, strong muscle, tickle of hair. Poe’s heartbeat. Quickening.

Poe eased onto his back and Finn followed, gliding his hand over Poe’s chest and down one arm. Touched his hand and every finger, pressing their palms together before sliding his hand to Poe’s waist and over his belly. He felt the rough edge of Poe’s trousers, felt the dip of his skin as he breathed, felt the heat pouring between skin and fabric. He rested his hand over Poe’s navel.

“Is this okay?” he asked.

Poe blew out a shaky breath. “Yes.”

Finn stayed still. He could do more, offer more. Offer everything. It was something bodies did. But this was different. This was new. Would offering more destroy this or make it better? 

“Finn,” Poe broke into his thoughts. He touched Finn’s cheek and held it. “This is okay. This is better than a good dream.”

Finn couldn’t quite imagine what that meant, and while he thought about it Poe’s lips touched his. Caressed until they parted, and Poe lightly licked at the opening. Finn lured Poe’s tongue deeper inside. A nervous heat flooded his body. They kissed slowly, and he moved his hand lower to rest on the curve caught tight in Poe’s trousers.

He broke from the kiss. Poe rubbed the back of Finn’s neck.

“I can do more,” Finn said haltingly. “A lot more. Everything, really.” 

“Good to know.” Poe ran his hands down Finn’s back and up again to gently knead his shoulders. “But what do you _want_ to do?”

Finn didn’t have an immediate answer. Poe pulled him down into a kiss. “Then why don’t we just keep doing this?” 

And that seemed all right to Finn, seemed pretty perfect, in fact. They kissed and touched, slow and unhurried and gentle until they fell asleep. Finn slept deeply and didn’t dream. When he woke a hint of dawn filtered through the narrow windows. He rolled onto his side and watched Poe sleep. 

He ached inside. A pleasant ache, one he was becoming used to. _If anything happened to Rey... If anything happened to Poe..._ the ache said. He touched Poe’s cheek. _I need you in my life._

The light wasn’t much brighter when Poe finally woke up. When the room had grown cold, Finn had started another fire in the fire well and he was sitting next to it, poking at the kindling with a metal prong he’d found by the wall. Poe yawned, mumbled something about how late it was, and shuffled into the sanitation station. When he returned he plonked himself down beside Finn and held out a piece of ration bar.

“Breakfast?”

Finn looked at the ration bar lozenge, raised his eyes to look at Poe. Poe’s gaze met his. Finn’s pulse thudded. Poe licked his lips.

“Oh,” he said, dropping the lozenge.

Finn grabbed the nape of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. He had not had enough of kissing Poe, could there ever be enough? Poe kissed him back, and there could never be enough of that, either. Poe reached under Finn’s undershirt to pull it off. They tumbled back over the blankets on the floor. Kissing, caressing. There could never be enough of this.

Poe squirmed to shed the rest of his clothes, and Finn’s hands got greedy, wanting to touch him everywhere. He got lost in savoring each curve of firm skin until Poe impatiently worked at unfastening Finn’s trousers. Finn drew back to strip bare. Poe looked him over, smiling appreciatively, before reaching for him again. Warm bubbling buzzing gushed through Finn in a hard rush.

So this was the _more_ he’d offered to Poe, he thought. This was the _everything_. And it was nothing like what he’d expected. It was so many things at once. Not just what their bodies were doing to, with, and against each other. It was Poe’s expressions and little laughs and sharp breaths. It was Poe murmuring something funny and surprising and sort of wicked to him while he thrust. It was the awkwardness of restless limbs, discarded clothes, and rumpled blankets getting in the way. And the sweet delicious pleasure when nothing was in the way anymore. It was the room getting stuffy again and their bodies plastered to each other, slick. It was rising, falling, and recapturing breath. 

Everything.

Afterward, Poe rolled away and crawled over to the fire well to dampen the fire. “There’s hot or there’s cold. This place has no in-between.” He crawled back and stretched out alongside Finn, hands hooked behind his head. His elbow rested on Finn’s foot.

Finn sat up, looked down at him, then glanced away to stare at an empty alcove in the wall. 

“They lied to us in social training. Of course they did. The First Order lies about everything. But this?” He looked at Poe again. “Wow, did they lie.”

Poe’s smile was slightly sad. He unclasped his hands and ran one up Finn’s leg to pat his knee. Then he leered and said, “Welcome to the truth.” 

After washing, dressing, and suffering through another ration bar lozenge meal, they went outside to check on BB-8. There were only a few villagers out, going about their daily chores. A couple of them greeted the visitors.

Poe patted BB-8 and straightened, scanning the village. “Nothing. Some static interchange this morning but no way to identify the ships.”

Finn shook his head. “How are we going to get out of here? Should we go to the capital? Do we even know where that is?”

“The Adeen know.” Poe glanced around. “Even if they wish they didn’t. I didn’t want to push for their help last night, but we’re out of options.”

“Maybe, since we’re a couple on our way to this something-or-other festival, they won’t mind helping us get to the capital,” Finn smiled.

Poe smiled back. “It was an inspired lie, wasn’t it?”

“Who said it was a lie?” Finn nudged him.

They approached the villagers and were politely turned down by all but one man who was interested in doing a deal: BB-8 in exchange for passage to the capital. He had an old land cruiser, he said, that would “just about” hold three. No way Poe would barter BB-8 away, and they were in the process of haggling -- difficult because they didn’t have anything else he wanted -- when the droid rolled up to Poe and squeaked.

Poe pretended he was going to present the man’s deal to the droid, and they went back to the house. As soon as they were inside, BB-8’s beeps filled the small space.

“What is it? What’s going on?” Finn was impatient though he dreaded more bad news.

“There’s a freighter on its way home to the Venna System. They’re allies of the Republic. If we can get to it before it leaves, they’ll take us there. From there we can find someone with contacts to the Resistance.”

“Where’s the freighter now? Oh, don’t tell me. It’s in the capital we can’t get to.” Finn rested his hands on his hips and frowned down at BB-8. He’d come to like the droid, honestly. Had forgiven those nasty burns when BB-8 thought he’d done something to Poe. But the droid was their ticket out of here unless they could come up with something else to barter with. What else of value could they offer?

Finn looked up. “Me. Tell him about the bounty. Trade me for passage to the capital.” He couldn’t meet Poe’s eyes. “You can get away, get back to the Resistance.”

“Finn. You know I’m not going to do that.”

Finn met his gaze. “It’s the only way. You can’t give him the droid. BB-8’s too valuable.”

“You’re valuable,” Poe said quietly. 

Finn placed a hand on Poe’s shoulder. “And you’re too valuable to the Resistance not to make it back. They need you.” He paused, seeing and understanding the look in Poe’s eyes, and continued, “I need you, too, yes. But like you said, we’re out of options. I got away from the First Order once, I can get away again.” 

Poe covered Finn’s hand and squeezed it. “We both know that will be impossible. Thanks, buddy, but it’s a terrible idea. Besides, what do you think Rey would do to me if I gave you back to Hux to save my own hide?”

Finn flinched. _Rey._

He dropped his hand. “That was a dirty hit.”

“But it’s true,” Poe said. “We have to think of something else.”

Finn glanced at BB-8, wishing it were more expendable, thinking furiously. They needed to get away from here. How--

Finn’s eyes met Poe’s. Poe said, “The guy has a land cruiser.”

“I have a pilot.”

“Small village. Can’t be too hard to find.”

“We’ll need a distraction.”

They both looked at BB-8, who whistled with reluctance.

They were crossing the village square, BB-8 returning to the comms tower to rig a distraction, when Finn stopped. Poe turned to him.

“I don’t like stealing from these people,” Finn said. “They were nice to us.”

Poe looked around the village and sighed. “I don’t like it, either.”

“It’s not the right thing to do, and I’m done with not doing the right thing.”

“Sometimes the choice isn’t between right and wrong, but between bad and worse.” Poe frowned down at the dirt and drew line in it with the toe of his boot. “We’ll find a way to return the cruiser once we’re safe. There’ll be someone in the capital or on the freighter who can help.”

Finn nodded reluctantly and they walked through the village, pretending to -- Finn wasn’t sure what they were pretending to do, and the villagers watched them suspiciously. They found the guy’s land cruiser half-covered with tarp behind one of the outer structures. 

The cruiser was caked with dust and dirt and looked older than the Empire, but Poe whistled softly and said, “What a beauty.” He lifted the tarp and shook his head. “Practically mint condition.”

“Will it fly?” Finn asked dubiously.

“Oh, yeah, she’ll fly all right.” Poe ran his hand along the nose, leaving a streak in the dust. “Always wanted to--”

He was interrupted by BB-8 screeching and barreling at them, followed by the land cruiser’s owner yelling angrily.

“This is your distraction?” Finn shouted at the droid. 

BB-8 ignored him and beeped excitedly at Poe, who crouched down and listened while the village man stood there and cursed and told them they could find their own damn way to the capital, they were nothing but a bunch of thieves and ingrates.

Poe straightened, troubled and serious, and Finn raised his hand and told the man to shut up. Surprisingly he did and stood there in confusion and watched them.

“The First Order is coming,” Poe said. “Must’ve spotted the wreckage.”

A nasty ice slid down Finn’s spine. “They know where we are.”

“Search formation, so not yet.” Poe faced the villager. “Listen to me, if you don’t get us out of here now they are going to come and destroy you. Destroy everything. Handing us over to them won’t save you. Believe me.”

Finn stood shoulder-to-shoulder with Poe and added, “He’s telling you the truth. I’m sorry we brought this trouble to your door, but for your sake and ours, you have to get us as far away from here as possible.”

The man scanned their faces. “I believe you.” He pulled the tarp away from the land cruiser. “But if you’re right about who’s coming for you, I don’t know if I can outrun them.” He scratched the back of his neck. “It’s been a while since I had to do any fancy flying.”

Poe flashed a grin. “Don’t worry about that. If you’ll trust me with her controls...?”

The man gestured for them to climb in. “I’ll probably regret this,” he grumbled as he squeezed in next to Finn in the back. BB-8 rolled onto the seat next to Poe and plugged into the cruiser’s control panel.

“Hey, what’s that thing doing?” the man objected. 

Poe engaged the engine. “We have to know where they are to avoid them.” A holopanel flashed up in front of BB-8. It was primitive but showed dots fanning out in grid formation uncomfortably close to their location.

The land cruiser rose up and shot away from the village, making straight for the dots.

“Uh, Poe...?”

The village man, clutching his seat, said, “What the hell are you doing?”

“Saving your village,” Poe said, checking out the console. “Lead them away so they have no reason to go in that direction.”

“Yeah, but...” Finn let go of his protest. He wanted to save the village, too.

But it was unnerving when they swooped past a First Order search team and nearly careened into the next. Finn looked back and groaned. There were five teams in the newest reconnaissance speeders, shaped for maximum possible velocity, equipped with monitoring comms, and armed for hostile capture. Finn hadn’t realized they’d gone from the latest First Order invention to actual working threat, but then again, it had been a while since he’d been one of the hundred thousand standing and listening to General Hux.

“They’ll overtake us.”

“Not if I can help it.” Poe angled away and zipped back in a big circle, trying to confuse them, but the First Order teams were too disciplined to fall for it.

“We need cover. Are there any mountains? Huge wrecks? Trees? Anything?” Finn asked the villager.

“No mountains on this continent. There’s some ruins up ahead, not very tall, though.” The man looked back over his shoulder and blanched. “Guess that’ll have to do.”

“Whoa!” Poe let out a triumphant whoop. “Hey, you didn’t mention she has an XR27-A modification.”

“XR27-A and XT90-C,” the man said, leaning over to point at some buttons on the console.

“Ooooo. I didn’t think the XT90-C ever made it into production. You know, I once flew a tri-wing with an XT30-E mod, and it was a beast to get going but once it did... Glorious.”

“Oh yeah, those old XT30s,” the man chuckled, sitting back. “Real finicky, but take care of ‘em right and they never let you down. The XT90-C was built on the same architecture.”

“Really? I guess after the fiasco with the XT75 they went back to--”

Finn, watching the holopanel in front of BB-8 with increasing distress, cut in, “Uh, guys?”

“I see ‘em,” Poe assured him. He glanced back, eyes alight with adrenaline, grin cocky and confident. If Finn wasn’t so distracted thinking about their impending capture he’d kiss him. Oh, hell, if he was going to get shackled back to the First Order he couldn’t afford to lose any remaining opportunities. He leaned forward and gave Poe a quick strong kiss.

Poe laughed softly and turned back to the console. “Now let’s see what this old XR27-A can do.”

Shoot them away from the First Order speeders on their tail, that’s what it could do. Finn, plastered back against the seat with the villager, labored to catch his breath. 

“What the--”

The villager slapped him on the shoulder. “See? Runs like a dream.”

They hadn’t lost the recon speeders, though there was breathing room. BB-8 chirped and Poe nodded. “I see it.”

The ruins rose up from the flat landscape ahead. Strangely shaped stone structures covered with tall grass collapsed into heaps. They were not very tall, Finn saw with disappointment, but as Poe navigated straight for them he saw their advantage. The land cruiser stayed close to the ground and could weave easily among the ruins. The First Order recon speeders would need to slow down to be as maneuverable, losing their great advantage.

Of course, the fact that they were armed was another advantage, Finn thought as the first volley struck a stone column right beside them, sending rocks flying. He stared at the holopanel. All five search teams swarmed the area around them. What he wouldn’t give for some Resistance X-wings to show up right now and take them all out. He glanced up at the sky hopefully. It was empty.

BB-8 beeped and Poe made a sharp turn along one long, ruined wall. He slowed the cruiser and took her lower, almost touching the ground, and tucked into a corner, pulling to a stop. Not the most unexpected place to hide, Finn thought, and was just about to raise some objections when he noticed the holopanel.

“Oh, no, you’re not. Tell me that’s not what you’re thinking.”

Poe made some self-satisfied sound and even BB-8 whistled with disapproval.

The villager shifted uneasily on the seat. “Is he that good of a pilot?” he whispered to Finn.

“The best,” Finn assured him. Even though he was far from feeling reassured about this plan.

Blasts rocketed the walls around them. Crumbled stone rained over them. The shadow of a recon speeder, no, two, blanketed them. Clipped harsh voices ordered them to surrender. Finn glanced up and saw a third speeder covering their exit to the rear. A fourth loomed ahead in case they tried to climb the wall. The fifth, according to the holopanel, was somewhere above, keeping a watchful eye.

The village man closed his eyes and muttered something Finn was glad he couldn’t hear. 

Poe glanced back. “Ready?”

_No, I am not ready to die. I am not ready to lose you._

Finn nodded. “Let’s do it.”

Poe edged the cruiser back as if submitting, trying to land her. The recon speeders overhead broadcast orders at them. Then Poe slammed on the engine and pointed the nose straight up. They hung there for a terrible split second before falling to one side, and Finn was certain they were going to crash and it was going to be fiery and horrible. But if Poe could get away Finn was willing to die or let the First Order reclaim his broken body if he survived. 

The land cruiser raced along the wall on its side, and shuddered violently as a ball of fire shot from its rear jets. Finn looked back in time to see it hit two recon speeders at once. One immediately plummeted and landed on a third and they all crashed to the ground. The explosion ripped through a fourth speeder and thundered the air around them, spewing debris and twisted metal. 

Finn stared at the inferno as the land cruiser zipped away and Poe angled it upright again.

“The XT90-C,” the village man said with grim satisfaction.

Finn turned back around to watch the remaining dot on the holopanel. “What does it do for its encore?”

“That’s about it, I’m afraid,” the man said. “The design flaw that got it yanked from production was the long recharge time between shots.”

“How long?” Poe asked, frowning as he whipped them away from a blast from the last recon speeder.

“Oh, about a month.”

Finn idly wondered how the man had come to acquire such a thing, and why, but he was thankful that it hadn’t been used within the last month.

They wove in and out of the ruins, even doubling back to the crash site hoping for some smoke screen, but the remaining recon speeder was diligent and determined. One blast scored the hull near Finn and his sleeve caught fire. He covered his hand with his other sleeve and batted the flames out but felt a scalding sting along his arm.

“Finn?” Poe called back. “You okay?”

“Yeah.”

“Wanna do some shooting?”

“Yeah, but we don’t have any... Oh.” 

He clenched his teeth and braced himself as Poe swerved the cruiser onto its side again and banked along the wall, heading straight for the wreckage of the recon speeders. Finn saw it, too. A shoulder cannon had fallen to the ground. 

“This is gonna be our only chance to get it,” Poe said. “I don’t think our friends here will let it sit there undamaged if we miss it.”

Finn clutched the edge of the land cruiser and extended his arm, lining up where he needed to be to grab it. This was insane, probably the worst idea ever.

“We can’t be sure it’s undamaged,” he gritted out, climbing onto the seat to dangle out of the cruiser. The village man grabbed his legs to keep him from falling.

“We gotta believe,” Poe said.

Believe, Finn told himself as the cannon lay before him. His fingers were so close to the ground he could feel the earth’s moisture from melted frost. Closer, closer. There. His hand hit the barrel of the cannon and he grabbed it. But his hold was too close to one end and when he tried to pull it up he unbalanced, it unbalanced, and the cruiser wobbled. The villager couldn’t keep his grip on Finn’s legs. Finn toppled out of the cruiser and rolled over the smoldering mound of debris.

He fell fast and hard and pain shot through him everywhere, reawakening the dull aches of his slow-to-heal body. He didn’t have time to worry about it right now. The land cruiser zoomed away, righted itself, and curved around to come back for him. Blast fire followed it, hitting rock and earth before another shot scraped the cruiser. Finn heard BB-8 wail and didn’t want to think about what that meant.

He raised the cannon to his shoulder with all the quickness and efficiency the First Order had ever wanted from him. He pointed it at the recon speeder and focused through the sight. The calibration display worked, a good sign that maybe the cannon wasn’t damaged, maybe it wouldn’t backfire and disintegrate him. More blasts. The land cruiser made a piercing screeching sound. Finn fired.

The cannon hit the bottom of the recon speeder, boomed, and sent licks of fire out along the hull. Blasts filled the air, coming for him, and he scooted back until he was against the ruined wall. He lifted the cannon again and took aim.

Through the sight he saw a section of metal curl back, disgorging a wave of flames. The blast fire ceased, and another section of the speeder’s hull sheered away. The speeder started spinning out of the control, heading right for him.

Finn ran, hampered by the heavy cannon. The shadow of the speeder was over him. He dropped the cannon and kept running. The impact of the speeder’s crash knocked him to the ground. He covered his head with his jacket as sharp rocks and metal and melted plastic poured on top of him.

He stayed down when the earth stopped shaking. The air was filled with bitter smoke and grit. He doubled over, coughing.

“Nice shot, but it was almost too late,” Poe said above him.

Finn looked up, relief like fresh cool water rushing over him. Poe was alive. Was -- he scanned Poe quickly -- okay.

“The cruiser?” he asked worriedly.

Poe reached down to help him up. Finn winced from the aches and pains but he’d felt worse. 

“She’s a beauty,” Poe sighed with admiration. “She’ll get us to the capital all right. Just a few scratches.”

More than a few scratches, as the villager kept pointing out as they made their way to the capital. But the man seemed energized by their harrowing escape and he beamed with pride in the performance of his prized possession.

It was dusk when they landed on the outskirts of the capital in a busy commercial zone. They found the Venna freighter in the midst of loading cargo. Poe dropped off Finn and BB-8 and guided the land cruiser to a refueling station. Finn watched him anxiously through the bustle of the port. Would stormtroopers sweep in now and surround them? Were they really this close to getting away?

The land cruiser glided back to the freighter, its owner at the helm, and Poe jumped out next to Finn.

“Take care of her,” Poe told the villager, patting the cruiser’s nose. “XR27-A and XT90-C.” He shook his head. “A real honor to have flown her.”

“You take care, too,” the man said. “Stay out of trouble.” His dry smile suggested he knew how unlikely that was.

After their adventurous run in the land cruiser the flight on the freighter was refreshingly dull. There was a tense moment, the captain told them later, when the freighter passed a First Order destroyer patrolling near the planet. But the great thing about busy ports, she said, was that there was too much traffic for a thorough search, and there were lots of small fast personal craft leaving the capital around the same time. The First Order concentrated on those.

Finn looked at Poe. 

“The something-or-other festival saves us again,” Poe said with a smile.

Finn smiled back. “One day we’re going to have to find out what that festival is.”

The freighter took them to its home port, an industrial moon in perpetual darkness. A Resistance supporter ferried them to an orbiting space station where they could wait for a Resistance ship to pick them up. 

They sat on a bench in a transfers lounge on the space station, staring out at the stars, moon, and planet far below. Around them was ceaseless activity: pilots, passengers, droids, cargo haulers, security officers. But Finn felt at peace. He leaned against Poe and their heads touched. Poe slid his arm around Finn’s waist.

“I’m worried about the Adeen village,” Finn said. “When the First Order finds out what happened to their recon speeders and discovers our wreckage, they’re going to rake through the whole area. They won’t spare the village.”

“I talked to our friend about that when we went to refuel the cruiser. The Adeen are experts at hiding from governments. He knew what they would need to do to get rid of any evidence. I wished him the best of luck,” Poe sighed. “It’s all we can do for now.”

Finn slipped his hand over Poe’s and threaded their fingers together. They sat quietly and watched the stars. Finn knew there would probably not be too many moments like this for them and he enjoyed it while he could: he and Poe and no one trying to kill them. Temporary safety and the quiet of stars.

Eventually the peace was broken by the arrival of a Resistance pilot -- Finn recognized her as Parr, the one who’d steered them away from the exploding hangar during the attack on their base. She grinned at them and patted BB-8 and breathlessly filled them in on all the news as she led them through the station. 

“Our last base was compromised,” she said. “They knew exactly where our early warning systems were and took them out.”

“How?” Poe asked.

“Who?” Finn asked grimly. The ‘how’ had to be a spy. Or a traitor.

_Traitor._

_Decide for yourself what’s right._

“One of the new techs who volunteered after the destruction of Starkiller Base. She confessed when confronted.” Parr shook her head and sighed heavily. “She took her own life before anyone could stop her, swearing loyalty to Kylo Ren with her last breath.”

Finn knew they existed but had never personally met a Kylo Ren fanatic. Their idol’s unstable temper and cruelty bound them to him more strongly, instead of warning them to give him as wide a berth as possible. 

Kylo Ren destroying the Resistance base, though, left him with a question he was reluctant to ask. Had Kylo Ren been intent on destroying Finn? Had Finn brought this down on them all?

Before he could say anything, Parr continued, “Kylo Ren was looking for Rey.”

“Rey? Is she back? Have you heard from her?” Finn’s heart pounded in his chest.

“No, she’s not back yet, but General Organa says she safe.” 

Finn frowned and glanced at Poe. “How will she know where to find us when she returns? If the base keeps moving...” Although he certainly hoped this would be the last move for a while.

Poe gently rubbed Finn’s back. “Don’t worry. She’ll know.”

Finn was still uneasy. “What about the bounty on me?”

“Hux sure knows how to make a scene, doesn’t he?” Parr rolled her eyes, and Finn thought she didn’t know the half of it. “It might make some of our dealings with neutral parties more difficult, so we put the word out that you’d run off.”

Even though he had once almost done exactly that, it stung a little to hear it so casually mentioned. 

“Well,” he sighed, “the First Order will have no trouble believing that. I did it once, I could do it again.”

“No, you couldn’t.” Poe gave Finn’s shoulder a firm squeeze.

“Here we are,” Parr said cheerfully as they entered the dock.

Poe groaned a little. “I thought we lost all of these old slugs.”

To Finn it looked like an ordinary transport, if a little small. And it definitely looked more robust than the cobbled-together piece of junk he and Poe had left the base in.

Parr chuckled. “That was wishful thinking on your part.” She gestured them up the ramp. “You’re welcome to take the pilot’s seat, Poe.” She smirked.

“Oh, no, she’s all yours. I’ll be back in the hold with Finn and BB-8, getting old.”

“The hold?” said Finn. “Isn’t this a personnel transport?”

“Yes,” said Parr at the same time Poe said, “Now it is.”

He patted Finn’s shoulder. “Don’t expect any luxuries. Like a place to sit. But on the plus side, we’ll have a long journey to rest up. A very long journey.”

That didn’t sound so bad to Finn, frankly, after their adventures, but when they were inside the transport he saw what Poe meant. There was the cockpit, where Parr took the pilot’s seat and BB-8 cheerfully claimed the co-pilot’s place, and there was everywhere else: a big empty space with repaired panels and exposed supports and a hard vented floor.

“Hang on!” Parr called from the cockpit. “We’re leaving now.”

Poe grabbed a support and Finn did the same, spreading his feet and bracing himself as the engine puffed to life and the transport lifted off. It seemed to take a long time to clear the docking area. Finn thought Parr was being cautious until they were out in open space. 

“Oh,” he said. 

Poe took off his jacket, wadded it into a pillow and stretched out on the floor. He looked up at him with a nod. “Like I said, a nice long journey.”

Finn lay down beside him. Poe shared his jacket pillow and curled around him. Finn sighed, caressing Poe’s arm, and closed his eyes. He slept soundly, without dreams.

\-----

The new Resistance base was on a heavily forested mountainous planet. The base, newly built, tunneled through a mountain and connected two valleys. Each valley provided a long, smoothly paved landing strip. 

Parr brought the transport in carefully and landed. The ramp lowered and Finn strode out, stretching his back and tilting his head from side to side. Poe exited with Parr and BB-8 and came up beside Finn. He draped his arm across Finn’s shoulders.

“We made it,” he beamed, and kissed Finn’s cheek.

Finn grinned at him. “We did.” He looked around at the dark green mountains and light blue sky. “So far, so good.”

Poe chuckled and slapped him on the chest. “Let’s find the canteen. If I never have another ration bar lozenge it’ll be too soon.”

The canteen was easy to find -- they followed the welcoming smells of hearty food served hot -- but their generously portioned meal was interrupted by a request from General Organa for a debriefing. Finn gulped one last mouthful of hot rations and followed Poe. There was much to cover in the meeting, and Finn provided as many details as he could about the First Order’s new reconnaissance speeders. He was dismissed before Poe and wandered around the new base, getting his bearings.

It was good to be back, he told himself. They were safe for now. Poe was safe.

And yet he couldn’t stop remembering the night they’d shared in the Adeen village. It was greedy and impractical to want more nights like that. The best he could hope for here was finding a space where he could resume training. His body wasn’t at its limit of strength and endurance yet. 

He found the pilots’ dormitory. Through a short tunnel was a larger room for refugees and noncombatants. The officers’ quarters were down yet another tunnel. Finn hoped he’d have a bunk next to Poe again but wondered if he counted as a “refugee.” He returned to the canteen and nursed a canister of water.

“Come with me,” Poe said against his ear. “You gotta see this.” 

He rested his hand on Finn’s shoulder and guided him from the canteen and through the base and outside. He let go to climb up metal stairs that had been set into the side of the mountain. The stairs zigzagged to a viewing area near the mountain top. Poe sat down on the ground and pointed out. Finn sat beside him and reluctantly looked away from Poe, who was lit with sunset pink and alive with energy and optimistic determination. 

“Dual sunset,” Poe said. He smiled appreciatively at the twin suns hovering in streaks of orange and pink and slowly sinking behind shadowed mountain peaks.

Finn’s gaze kept straying back to Poe. “Beautiful.”

Poe nodded. “Everyone else here has seen it already. It’s old news to them. But can you ever get tired of that?”

“Never.”

Poe looked at him and smiled. “Me neither.”

They stayed until the last light faded and the sky above was a starless blue dotted with tiny red lights of the planet’s warning system. White light misted up from the landing strips below. The night was dry and chilly. 

Finn thought of holding Poe for warmth after the crash. He flexed the stiffness from his legs and said, “I didn’t figure out where I’m bunking yet.”

“You’re bunking with me,” Poe said with reassuring matter-of-factness.

Finn rose and reached down to help Poe to his feet. “Okay. Good.” 

They climbed down the mountain and entered the tunnel and Finn headed for the pilots’ quarters.

“Not that way.” Poe took his hand and steered him down a different tunnel. 

“Pilots’ dorm is that way.”

“I know.”

Poe stopped in front of a panel door that swept open to reveal a small room with two bunks side-by-side, a metal supply box, and BB-8. A dim tube light was set into the wall hewn of stone. 

“This is yours?” Finn asked. They stepped inside and the door swished closed behind them.

“Ours,” Poe corrected. He shrugged. “Mine. As a squadron leader I get my own room here. I had another bunk brought in. Unless you want to go back to the--”

Finn cut him off with a kiss. “No, no. This is good.” He laughed and sat down on the nearest bunk, bouncing. “This is great.”

“It’s small, I know...” Poe sat down next to him.

Finn gave him a long look. “We don’t need much room.”

Poe touched his cheek and kissed him slowly, stirring the hunger Finn had, he realized, been keeping in check since they fled the Adeen village. He deepened the kiss and they tumbled back against the bunk, sliding clothes off. Finn shifted onto his back and held Poe to him, skimming his fingertips down Poe’s spine.

“Um, does it have to stay here?” Finn whispered, nodding toward the corner.

Poe smiled slowly. “You’re not serious.”

Finn gazed up at him.

“BB-8 likes you.”

“That -- really -- doesn’t help.”

Poe laughed and kissed the curve of Finn’s neck. Finn sighed, caressing Poe’s back. Poe lifted his head and glanced back.

“BB-8. Sorry, buddy.” Poe shrugged. “Just for a little while, okay?”

Finn wanted to object to ‘a little while,’ but sensing he was already pushing his luck, he kept quiet. BB-8 rolled desultorily to the door. It whisked open and closed quickly after the droid left the room.

“Satisfied?” Poe asked, nuzzling Finn’s neck.

Finn pulled him into a long kiss. “Almost satisfied.”

\-----

_It suits you._

_Did you see that?!_

_I’m with the Resistance._

_You need a pilot._

Finn woke to darkness flecked with BB-8’s small lights. The room was cool but Finn was pleasantly and heavily warm with Poe half-covering him, asleep. Finn gently combed his fingers through Poe’s hair and touched a soft kiss to Poe’s forehead.

Finn smiled. He now knew what good dreams were.


End file.
